


To The Boy I Love

by fenty



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Multi, Red String of Fate, Unrequited Love, a lot of repeated lines .... its to bring a sense of nostalgia, kind of, kinda ?, like.... A LOT of angst... i cried writing this not gonna lie, some characters may be dicks in this but just know that this is a work of FICTION
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 04:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16779451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenty/pseuds/fenty
Summary: The world has gone through millennia of humans who believed that the Red String of Fate is simply a legend, a myth passed down from generation to generation, a fairytale a parent would recite to their children before tucking them into bed. To them, the Red String of Fate is just a story, a what-if, something inconceivable but something to enjoy as a mere theory. To Johnny, this isn’t the case, because ever since he was a child, he’s been able to see them.And his best friend, Doyoung's, fiancé shares a string with him.





	1. To The Boy I Love

**Author's Note:**

> not proofread - will proofread when i have time. otherwise, please enjoy <3

Perhaps it was the way the red string between his roommates entangle around them as they quarrel on the couch for the remote, the crimson strand glinting in the light, yelling at them to pay attention, to use their limbs for affection rather than violence. Maybe it was the fact that for twenty-eight years, it’s always been this way: Johnny, feeling his heart reel in his chest as he watches two soulmates find each other, become comfortable towards each other. He suddenly becomes hyper aware of the red string tied around the middle of his pinky, the rouge colour demanding for his attention, mocking him - the universe must be a sadist.

The world has gone through millennia of humans who believed that the _Red String of Fate_ is simply but a legend, a myth passed down from generation to generation, a fairytale a parent would recite to their children before tucking them into bed. To them, the _Red String of Fate_ is just a story, a what-if, something inconceivable but something to enjoy as a mere theory. To Johnny, this isn’t the case, because ever since he was a child, he’s been able to see them.

He first noticed the red strands at the age of four, seeing one lead from his mother to the housemaid; a few days after seeing a string tied around his father’s pinky, he asked his father what it was. His question was treated as a joke, but his words were benign, a gentle, yet disbelieving, smile etched on his father’s face. At the age of five, after Johnny’s mother had left the family to be with the housemaid, he began to notice other people’s red strings; he can recall seeing strings between his preschool teacher and one of his classmate’s parents, a strand leading from a car driving past the street to his pretty neighbour, a strand that lead a nurse to a doctor, and a doctor to a patient. He had seen the strings a copious amount of times, to the point where streets would just be lined with red zig zags, that Johnny had become accustomed to them. 

At the age of twelve, Johnny had began to see his own string, but it was at the same age he witnessed his father’s red string transition into a dark, potent black. It happened so slowly, but quickly at the same time; he had looked up at his father across the dining table during breakfast, his red string intact, but after Johnny blinked, the colour had gone black. He jumped, which his father reacted to in worry, but Johnny had told his father then that everything was fine, he just had a muscle spasm - but the excitement that Johnny held for his own string diminished that day.

And now here he is, at twenty-eight, a couple of dollars and an English degree to his name, terrified of love but wanting to love.

“Sicheng, I fucking swear to god,” Yuta exclaims, standing up from the couch and putting his hands on his hips. “I just want to watch one episode. Please.”

“Johnny!” Sicheng whines, turning around and looking at the taller boy sitting at the dining table with a chagrin smile. “Tell Yuta that I don’t wanna watch his stupid anime cartoons and that streaming exists.”

“Hey!” Yuta yells back in offence. “First of all, it’s just anime. Second of all, it’s not stupid! Third of all, I _would_ stream, if it weren’t for the fact that you spilled your stupid mango juice all over my laptop!”

The two quarrel again and Johnny chuckles half-heartedly, setting his glass of coffee down on the table and picking up the pile of envelopes waiting to be opened. He had met Yuta in his sophomore year of high school, but reconnected after he graduated from university. They decided to room together to split the cost, when Johnny was in dire need of a job and when Yuta was just a student-teacher. Sicheng came into the picture later as Yuta’s coworker who desperately needed a new place to live as his original home was four hours away from the school district and traffic caused him to be late everyday. Johnny was hesitant at accepting the new boy at first; the apartment was synonymous to a garbage dump due to Johnny and Yuta never being home and when they were, only brought home take-out and never seemed to have the time to take their refuses out. After coming home and finding the house spick and span, Sicheng holding a broom in the middle of the living room, he retracted his reluctance.

It was also the fact that Yuta and Sicheng are soulmates. They just haven’t figured it out yet. 

“Oh yeah, Johnny,” Sicheng glances at Johnny, ignoring the fuming Japanese man in front of him. “There’s a letter for you. It looks really fancy... if it’s money, congratulations, let’s split it.”

“Ha-ha.” Johnny quips in a dry tone before looking through the pile. 

Catalogues, coupons, and letters that are meant for his old roommate, Kim Doyoung, make up most of the pile. Johnny sighs in exasperation at the sight; Kim Doyoung was Johnny’s best friend during university. He was a business major, who had the unfortunate fate of rooming with Johnny on campus during their first year of university. Although things were rough at the beginning, being from two different worlds if finance and accounting versus literature and comedy, they quickly became used to each other and very close friends. After five years of living together, on campus and off campus, it came as a shock to Johnny to learn that Doyoung was leaving Chicago for good after he gets his degree, and will be residing in Korea to implement his learning towards the company that his father had passed down to him.

Johnny was happy for him, he truly was - but he recalls the feeling of pure envy the week after Johnny himself had graduated, unable to find a job, let alone have money to buy a plane ticket to another country. Luckily, a publisher had come across a short story he had written on his blog a year after graduating; money comes in slow spurts, but it still shows up. If Johnny continues this, perhaps he’ll become a famous author.

In the living room, Sicheng and Yuta had decided to come to a truce, Yuta’s anime blaring through the speakers and Sicheng becoming engrossed in the animation. Johnny flips through the envelopes and comes across the letter that Sicheng was talking about. The envelope is an off-white linen finish with floral decals, right in the middle of the rectangle was Johnny’s name written in the most beautiful calligraphy. Furrowing his eyebrows together, he slowly opens the envelope as to not tear the delicate material, and upon seeing what was inside the letter, he lets out a low chuckle as if he was cursing the universe.

_Dear Johnny Seo,_

_It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, Johnny. I hope that you’re doing well and that Chicago has been treating you good. I hope you’ve published that one fanfiction you wrote back in the second semester of university - you were a talented writer and I bet your skill sets have only strengthened!_

_The reason I’m sending this letter is because on the second of September of this year, I am getting married. His name is Jung Jaehyun. I met him the second week of living in Seoul, when I was moving into my apartment. And the moment I heard his voice, I just knew he was the one. Soulmates are real, Johnny, and he is mine._

_And due to the fact that he changed my life for the better, as did you, one of my most influential friends, I cannot get married without you. The only thing better than having you as my brother is having you as my groomsman._

_So what do you say?_

_Sincerely yours, Kim Doyoung_

Johnny holds the letter in his right hand, and the flashy invitation (You are invited to Kim Doyoung and Jung Jaehyun’s Wedding!) in his left. He looks back and forth between the two, and lets out a sigh.

The universe is absolutely, completely, totally, and utterly, a sadist.

-

“How’s Chicago?” 

It had been half an hour since Johnny’s flight touched down on the runway, derived his bags from the carousel by pushing through the crowds, and texted Doyoung about his whereabouts. His trip, which consisted of two different flights from Chicago to Manila, and Manila to Seoul, gave Johnny the unfortunate ate of a six hour layover in Manila. Johnny, who finds it difficult already to find some shut-eye in public and during transportation, has been awake now for almost twenty-six hours; to describe him as exhausted would be an understatement. 

When Doyoung had picked Johnny up from the airport, Johnny had hoped for the tiniest amount of conversation, wishfully none - it was evident the moment Doyoung pulled up next to Johnny with the largest grin on his face that he had forgotten the man’s bright, talkative personality. 

“Same old,” Johnny answers, hoping his voice sounds enthusiastic enough. “The neighbourhood still smells like wet hotdogs.”

“Ah,” Doyoung laughs. “You still live in that apartment?” 

“Oh, yeah,” answers Johnny. “I have two roommates right now so rents pretty easy to pay.”

“Pretty easy huh?” Doyoung quips, glancing at Johnny with a grin before putting his attention back on the road. “I reckon you’re some hotshot writer now... New York’s bestselling author, Johnny Seo. You know, that one short story you wrote back in second year was amazing.” 

A chagrin smile sneaks its way onto Johnny’s lips, a half-hearted laugh falling past them before looking down at his lap and fiddling with his long fingers. 

“I write short stories for children,” Johnny answers after a long pause. “Some publisher found my blog and liked my ideas; said I’d hit it big with kids. I also write movie review columns in entertainment magazines sometimes, but yeah, no bestselling author here.” 

Johnny can feel the air stiffen between him and Doyoung but he’s certain that it’s just him that can feel the shift. Perhaps if it weren’t the fact that Johnny and him shared some of the best days during their formative years in university, he would have already let something sharp passed his tongue in the name of covetousness. Doyoung always had an air of regality around him, as much as he acted out in university, going to every other frat party during the weekends, he was still a rich boy who got everything handed to him on a silver platter. Johnny clears his throat, ridding himself of his sour thoughts, forcing himself to keep his emotions under control. 

“Yet.” Doyoung corrects him. “You’re not a bestselling author, _yet_.”

Johnny speaks after an awkward pause. “And what about you? What’s the chairman of Kim Group up to these days?”

Doyoung grins.

“As you know,” Doyoung says, squeezing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “He is getting married to the love of his life very, very soon.”

“Of course,” Johnny says simply, staring at Doyoung’s red string tied around his pinky, the undeniable seething feeling of envy coursing through his veins. “When did the both of you meet? When can I meet this Jaehyun dude?”

“Very soon,” says Doyoung. “I called for a reservation at the restaurant of the hotel we’re staying in for the wedding. Because you’re my best man and best friend, I figured that your friendship with my fiancé is just as important; I’m pretty sure he’s bringing his best man as well.”

“I see.” Johnny says. “I can’t wait, then.”

The rest of the drive is silent, ending when Doyoung pulls over in front of a large, lavish building, the sight of it alone already intimidating Johnny. It is several storeys high, Johnny’s neck cramping at how far he’s thrown his head back to look at the height of the building. The material used for the exterior walls are a dark mahogany, every floor past the lobby is clean, reflective glass. Never has Johnny felt more penniless than he did then.

“Hurry, Johnny,” Doyoung calls, taking out two of Johnny’s bags from the rear of his car. “I have to be at a meeting in a few minutes.” 

Johnny nods before taking both of his bags, rolling them into the hotel. He watches as the staff welcome him and Doyoung warmly, even going to extremities such as offering to take their jackets, presenting flutes of chardonnay, and assigning Johnny his personal bellboy. Doyoung advanced around the area smoothly, almost as if he had rehearsed this countless of times before, and it made Johnny feel inept. He folds his arms in front of him in case he knocks over a glass vase situated on one of the many display tables, and meekly follows behind Doyoung. 

“I’ll be back at around seven p.m.,” Doyoung tells him before leaving, glancing at his watch. “You’ll meet Jaehyun then.”

The moment Johnny hears the door click, indicating that it’s locked and that Doyoung has left, Johnny throws himself onto the mattress and is knocked out cold instantly. 

It seems like only minutes when he is woken by a knock at the door, Johnny’s eyes opening wide as he lifts himself off the bed, realizing he hasn’t moved an inch from the original position he slept in. He glances at the clock on the bedside table; it has been ten hours since Doyoung had left and since Johnny had fell asleep.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny mutters to himself, running over to the washroom to check how he looked. His eyes were sullen and bloodshot, his skin was pale and transparent enough to vaguely see the veins underneath his skin, dried saliva on the sides of his mouth - it is then he realizes he hasn’t had any food the entire day. “Great. I‘m meeting my best friend’s fiancé and it looks like I just crawled out of a grave.”

Knocks on the door are set off again which cause Johnny to pivot on his heel and make way for the door, unlocking it, and opening it up to see Doyoung on the other side. He greets Johnny nonchalantly, eyes trained on his phone, scrolling through his emails.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” asks Johnny.

“He’s waiting downstairs in the restaurant,” Doyoung waves Johnny’s question away. “Come on, let’s not make him wait any longer.”

Johnny nods once before stepping out, the door automatically locking itself behind him. He follows behind Doyoung humbly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and toying with the edge of his elastic phone case situated in the cavity of the pouch. He was nervous, of course he was, he was meeting Doyoung’s lover, an event he was surprised even happened in the first place considering his past reputation on the grounds of university as a playboy. The chairman of Kim Group in the past was a man who filed through several different men and women in just days, who spent every Monday groaning in pain at his aching hangover tormenting his skull, who had hooked up with the young, impressionable Economics professor for a boost in his grade. 

Johnny watches as the man in front of him puts every ounce of motivation into every step. The Doyoung that used to saunter down the university hallways eyeing every person he passes by to see if they were suited and refined to his tastes now walks with a purpose, head up high, back is straight, walking towards the love of his life. Johnny’s eyes trail towards his string, and as he had predicted, they were following where it had led. Johnny frowns, _Doyoung really has found his soulmate, huh?_

Johnny looks down at his own string as they board the elevator. It follows the same pathway as Doyoung’s, but knowing the absolute luck Johnny’s had for the past twenty-eight years, it will not lead to his soulmate. Where Doyoung’s string meets another person’s finger, Johnny’s string will continue to roll on, unknowing to where it leads.

The elevator doors open wide with a _ding!_ , a cinnamon scent lacing into Johnny’s nostrils. Doyoung steps out first and Johnny follows suit, watching as Doyoung’s string begins to grow shorter and shorter, paying no mind to his own.

“Doyoung!” Johnny hears, and immediately he snaps his head towards the direction his friend’s name was called. Already, Doyoung was rushing over to a table of which two men were sitting. “How was the meeting?”

“It was okay,” says Doyoung. “Same old.” 

Doyoung’s back blocks the sight of his fiancé when he speaks, and Johnny gulps when he sees how short Doyoung’s string is now. He had been right - he really has met his soulmate. Doyoung finally steps back, motioning for Johnny to come join them, two men seated at the table, beaming at him. Johnny makes a mental note of which man Doyoung’s string leads to. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” smiles Johnny, bowing towards the one with the jet black hair and narrow nose. The man’s eyes seem to widen in confusion, casting a glance at Doyoung and the other man. Johnny’s eyebrows lift as he realizes that he hasn’t introduced himself yet. “I’m Johnny? Doyoung’s best man.”

“Johnny,” Doyoung chuckles. “That’s not my fiancé.” 

Johnny stands up straight again, looking at Doyoung in bewilderment before looking at the clear red string that tied the both of them together, lacing around the arrangement of flowers set in the center of the table. 

“What?”

He hears someone clearing their throat, followed by nervous laughter. Johnny slowly turns his head to the noise’s origins, opening his mouth to say something but instead of words coming out his mouth, his breathe instead escapes the moment he meets the man’s eyes. 

“That’s actually my best man, his name is Ten,” the man stands up from his seat, extending his hand out towards Johnny, offering him a handshake. 

Ash blonde hair sways in front of the man’s brown eyes, teasing the tips of his long dark eyelashes. A tender smile is etched on his face, the faintest of a dimple showing it’s indentation on his cheek. He is shorter than Johnny, everyone usually is, but he still stands tall, back straight, as if he was refusing to cower underneath Johnny’s height. He is dressed in Maison Margiela, the cream white of his wool sweater contrasting against the darkness of his slacks. 

But even through the most kindest gesture, Johnny’s eyes are fixated on the man’s hands.

Because this man’s red string leads to Johnny’s.

“I’m Jaehyun.”

-

“I met him the day he was moving in,” says Jaehyun, looking at Doyoung with adoration in his eyes. “He needed help with his boxes. He looked weak so I rushed over and helped him… figured out later that he isn’t and just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

Jaehyun puts his hand on the table, which Doyoung rests his hand over. Johnny feels his guts twist in his stomach.

“It worked, didn’t it?” asks Doyoung. 

“It did.” replies Jaehyun.

“Get a room, I’m trying to eat over here,” Ten quips at them, jokingly grimacing at the pair as he twists a string of spaghetti around his metal fork. Ten was kind, he was funny too, but the utter sight of his string that led to Doyoung was a patent reminder to Johnny of his own situation. The four of them sat in a rounded table together, across from each other, and all four of their strings form a single X-mark right in the middle of the white table cloth.

“So,” Ten says, looking at Johnny, who has barely touched his food. “Johnny, what do you do?”

Johnny opens his mouth, he hadn’t noticed how dry his throat had became. “I write stories for children. I also do movie reviews in magazine articles, but mainly stories.” 

In the corner of Johnny’s eye, he sees Jaehyun quirking an eyebrow, but Ten raises both of his. 

“That’s so cool!” says Ten, clasping his hands together. “So you’re basically famous!” 

“I mean,” Johnny laughs gently. “If you count seeing your picture books on shelves at Walmart and in elementary school classrooms as being famous, then, yeah, I guess.” 

“Still,” Ten replies. “That’s so cool. I bet it’s fun using your imagination and creating things from that.”

“Sure,” Johnny shrugs. “What do you do, Ten?”

“I do musicals,” he smiles. “Sometimes I do camerawork but mostly stage stuff.”

“You’re the one acting on stage yet you’re freaking out over me writing a couple of storybooks?” Johnny muses, a playful smile beginning to form on his face. “It must be fun performing for an audience all the time, huh?”

“It gets tiring,” Ten sighs, before turning to Jaehyun, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Jaehyun, here, actually used to be a part of that whole scene before dropping it all to pursue Law.” 

Jaehyun swats Ten’s hand away. “Hey, I told you to never bring those days up again,” he pouts. “I’d like to keep my memories of chafed thighs due to my leggings, in the past, thank you very much.”

“You used to do musicals?” asks Johnny in an effort to lighten the tension between him and Jaehyun, which was mostly on Johnny’s end.

“Yeah,” replies Jaehyun. “It was extra money. Some family stuff had to be taken care of so, you know, it was handy. I did it for, what, like, two years, before changing my major to criminology and getting into law school.” 

“Oh, that’s nice.” Johnny’s answer is simple. 

The rest of the dinner flies by with several brief moments of awkward silence, mostly due to the fact that Doyoung and Jaehyun were far too occupied with each other, that Ten seemed far too intrigued by the sauce coated on his spaghetti, and the fact that Johnny could barely muster up a word towards Jaehyun without his voice faltering. In those moments, never before has Johnny felt the acidic urge to take scissors and cut the red string from his finger, but he knows he cannot, he knows he’ll never be able to, due to the amount of times he’s tried in the past. The blades go right through the string, and the string will remain unharmed.

“So, the main reason I called the two of you here was because I want you to write out speeches for the wedding,” Doyoung had said after flagging down a waiter for the bill. “Not too long, not too short. Nothing embarrassing,”—he glares at Johnny—”The press will be there. It’ll be all over the papers in the morning, so I advise you to keep your speeches well-spoken and direct.”

“So, nothing from university, then?” Johnny questions, to which Doyoung stiffens.

“Nothing from university.”

The four of them stand up from their chairs and depart towards the elevator. Ten and Johnny’s rooms were right down the hall from each other, so the two of them left the elevator first. Doyoung and Jaehyun wave at the both of them, Jaehyun barely sparing Johnny another glance before nuzzling his face into Doyoung’s neck as the doors close. Johnny feels the twist in his gut again.

“Whatever Johnny did in university must have been taxing, huh,” Ten says as they walk down the corridor together. “Not a surprise, though. He always seems like he’s hiding a secret.” 

Johnny chuckles before lying straight through his teeth. “Not at all.” 

They walk in silence again before Ten pivots on his heel. “This is me,” says Ten, taking out his activation card. There was a pause in the air before Ten opens his mouth again, turning to Johnny, his eyes gentle. “Hey, I know we just met but if you ever need anyone to talk to, just come to my door.”

Johnny furrows his eyebrows, confused at the sudden change of aura. “What? Why do you say that?”

Ten flashes him a sympathetic smile.

“I can see them too.”

-

Crumpled paper and pens were sprawled out in front of the pair, both sat on the ground of Ten’s hotel room and leaning against the bed. It had been two days since Johnny’s arrival, and two days since Johnny had met Ten, someone who can also see the strings. In Johnny’s twenty-eight years of living, he has never met anyone who was able to see them as well; he had just assumed he was cursed by the universe to live through Hell, but apparently, the universe decided to curse two people. 

“How long have you been able to see them?” questioned Ten.

“Since I was born, basically,” says Johnny. “What about you?”

“I got crossfaded senior year of high school,” Ten says after a pause. “Brink of death, actually thought I did die when I woke up the next morning and saw red strings everywhere.”

Johnny chuckles. “You get used to them though,” he says. “Though it’s annoying having to see them constantly. Red is my least favourite colour.”

Ten laughs for a few seconds before silence finds itself back in their conversation again, the only noises deriving from the busy roads outside and the air conditioning starting up. 

“Have you ever seen black strings?” asks Johnny after several minutes.

Ten lifts his head from the resting position on his bed and looks at Johnny. “No,” he answers. “Is that a thing?”

Johnny gulps. “Yes,” he says. “A few years after my mom left my dad’s string turned black... it scared me a lot and the sight of it is always in the back of my mind. I don’t even know what it means.”

“Maybe his soulmate died,” says Ten. “or maybe their soulmate found someone else, or it was too late.”

Johnny sighs and looks down at the three sentences he’s managed to write the past hour for the speech for Doyoung’s wedding. 

_”Doyoung, it was with great pleasure to have been your best man. For all the years that we have spent together in friendship, it baffles me to see just how fast the years have flown by. I congratulate you and your husband, Jaehyun on your marriage.”_

Jaehyun.

“What are you going to do?” asks Johnny.

“What do you mean?”

“About Doyoung,” Johnny clarifies himself, gesturing to Ten’s string. “Your his soulmate, and he is yours.”

Ten sighs, a chagrin smile making its way into his lips. “Whatever happens,” he starts. “Happens.”

“But he’s your soulmate.” Johnny frowns.

“And? If he’s happy, that’s all that matters,” Ten tells him. “It hurts, oh fuck, does it hurt, but his happiness is more important than mine.”

Johnny isn’t happy with Ten’s answer. He looks down at the ground, at where their strings lays flat, leading out the door, down the halls, up the elevator and into the penthouse Doyoung and Jaehyun had paid for, their strings probably entangled around their bodies; strings that do not lead to each other. 

“I’m gonna go on a walk,” Johnny says, standing up and setting his notepad on the ground. “I need some fresh air... gotta loosen up a bit before I start writing stuff.”

Johnny sees Ten nod simply before leaving, the door locking behind him. He shoves his hands into his pockets and makes way for the lobby and out the front doors, the warm, yet cooling August air welcoming him. The last time Johnny was in Korea was when he was merely an infant; he ultimately spent his entire life in Chicago, and his father was the only person to ever speak to him in Korean. He can speak it very well, but he cannot read it to save his life. And so he found himself lost, very quickly; it’s merely been minutes and the sight of empty streets lined with markets and what looks like cafés with signs in hangul that seem to mock Johnny sends him into a panic. 

“This is just fucking great,” Johnny mutters under his breath as he walks down the sidewalk. “This is literally _just fucking great_. My trip is going amazing, absolutely fucking splendid! I should’ve just stayed at home to listen to Yuta and Sicheng fight over anime for the umpteenth time and just sat there and ate my fo-“

“Johnny!” 

The voice alone already sends jolts down Johnny’s spine, his incoherent mumbling burning out into a simple exhale. He screws his eyes shut, mouthing a curse before pivoting on his heel to see the man he wants to see the absolute least right now.

“I knew it was you,” Jaehyun laughs, his hands halfway into the pockets of his blazer. He is dressed elegantly, a dark grey blazer with a white button up shirt paired with black slacks, dress shoes polished, a loosened black tie around his collar. His hair is combed back, remnants of gel clear in the strands but barely enough to hold it back, strands falling onto his forehead. He stands in the doorway of a modest coffee shop. “Come on, lets have a drink.”

Johnny wishes for death. 

“Actually,” Johnny opens his mouth, his tongue dry. “I was going back to the hotel.” 

Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. “The hotel is the other way.” 

Johnny gulps. “I knew that.”

“You’re lost aren’t you?” Jaehyun chuckles, the indent of his dimple showing up again, nearly making Johnny go lightheaded. “Come on, let me treat you for a coffee, I’ll drive you to the hotel after.”

“Fine,” Johnny says. “I can pay for myself though.”

“No,” Jaehyun waves him off, stepping aside to let Johnny into the café. “I insist. A thanks for being my fiancé’s best man, if you will.”

If words could punch you in the gut, Johnny would have been doubled over right now.

“Okay.”

Jaehyun leads Johnny to the table he must have been sitting in prior. The coffee shop is calm, and very humble; the beige walls are lined with simple yet old minimalistic paintings, the tables are sturdy but old, its paint chipping away, the chairs, too, have seen better days, but the cushion continues to hold up. It was a modest coffee shop, and maybe if it weren’t for the fact that Jaehyun is accompanying Johnny at the moment, Johnny would possibly enjoy the environment. A young man comes up to take Johnny’s order. 

“What would you like, sir?”

Johnny gulps as he looks over the menu, the foreign alphabet taunting him. There weren’t any pictures to save him either, which was absolutely fantastic on Johnny’s part. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Jaehyun seemed to notice Johnny’s lack of knowledge in reading and opened his mouth. 

“What are some of the specials for today?” asks Jaehyun, putting his hand on Johnny’s menu as if to show him _I got this._

“Umm,” says the younger man, whose name tag says _Renjun_ , tapping his chin. “Well today’s special is Velvet Latte, which consists of a single red velvet cheesecake and an iced café latte!”

“I’ll take that!” Johnny says almost immediately. Renjun nods and scurries to the back. 

“Thank you.” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun, who waves him off. 

“Don’t worry about it,” says Jaehyun. “You know how to speak Korean but can’t read it, huh? How’d that come about?”

“I was raised in Chicago,” Johnny says. “My dad was the only one to speak to me in Korean so I guess that’s how I learned how to interact in it, I’ve just never studied the alphabet.”

Jaehyun nods as he listens, a smile forming on his face. 

“Anyways,” Johnny says, diverting his eyes from Jaehyun’s face to look outside, finding the empty streets suddenly very intriguing. “Why are you out and about? Did you just get off work? I’m assuming, by the way you’re dressed right now.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “Actually, I was due for a job interview at a law firm,” Jaehyun says, folding his hands in front of him on top of the table. “Probably didn’t get it, so that’s why I’m here and drowning my sorrows.”

Johnny looks at Jaehyun and frowns. “Hey, don’t say that,” says Johnny, his eyebrows furrowing. “Frankly, I have no clue about the law field but I’m sure you got the job.”

Jaehyun smiles softly. “Thank you, Johnny,” he mumbles. “I have no clue about the english field but I’m sure you’re a remarkable writer.” 

Johnny, for the third time in just the past five minutes, wishes for his death. He doesn’t utter a word even as Renjun comes back and sets the plate and cup in front if him.

“So how’d you meet Doyoung?” asks Jaehyun, lifting his cup and taking a sip of the liquid. It takes all in Johnny to not wince when he sees the red string on Jaehyun’s pinky.

Johnny exhales. “We were roommates in university,” he pauses. “Although we had different majors, we could still semi-relate to each other, which is why we stuck by for the entirety of university.”

“Really?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “What was he like in university?”

Johnny gulps. “Well,” he racks his brain for lies, as evidently, Doyoung doesn’t want anybody to know about his reputation during their formative years. “He was chill, but fun at the same time.”

Jaehyun nods, listening to him. “Fun how?”

“You know,” Johnny says. “Just... fun.”

“There are many forms of fun, Johnny.” challenges Jaehyun. 

“Whatever fun you can come up with in your head,” Johnny states far too quickly. “Doyoung is.”

A moment of silence goes over them as Johnny picks at his cheesecake, only to be broken by Jaehyun: “Ah, I see.”

“And you,” Johnny searches for a way to change the subject. “How do you feel about Doyoung?”

“What do you mean?”

Johnny winces inwardly, beating himself up for wording his question like that. He clears his throat.

“Like, how did you realize you’re in love him?” Johnny clarifies himself. 

Jaehyun stares at his coffee, stirring the brown liquid with a small spoon for a few seconds, before opening his mouth. 

“He cares for me a lot,” Jaehyun says. “He helped me find solace in the situation with my family, and he helped me get into my dream school. I’ve never had anyone care for me that much before. Coupled with the fact that he’s just... beautiful.”

Johnny uses all his strength to smile.

“You’re really in love with him aren’t you?” Johnny asks, looking back down at his cheesecake, cutting a piece of it off and engulfing it into his mouth.

There is a moment of pause again, all that is heard is the muffled drone of classical music blaring through the shop’s speakers, Renjun at the counter whispering something underneath his breath as he stares at his phone, texting someone presumably, the metallic clanging of Jaehyun’s spoon hitting the sides of his ceramic mug reverberating off the window beside them and into Johnny’s ears. 

Then it all goes quiet. 

“I guess you can say that,” his smile is soft but melancholic, avoiding eye contact with Johnny, before he takes a sip of his drink and gesturing towards Johnny’s cheesecake and coffee. 

“Hurry now, it’s getting dark outside, we have to get back to the hotel soon.”

-

The drive back to the hotel was spent in awkward silence, the soft murmur of the car’s air conditioning the only sound between the two of them. Johnny did not say a word, nor did Jaehyun, his hands rested on the steering wheel, eyes forward on the road. Johnny pays attention to him through his peripheral vision, his words in the coffee shop echoing in his ears.

_I guess you can say that?_ , wonders Johnny. _Shouldn’t he be more certain of his answer..._

“Tell me, Johnny,” Jaehyun starts as they pull up behind a car, the red light softly illuminating Jaehyun’s features. “Do you have any plans for marriage in the future?”

“I’m not in a relationship in the moment, actually,” Johnny scratches the back o his neck. “I’m focusing on my career at the moment.”

“Really?” asks Jaehyun. “Any exes worth mentioning?”

“This feels like an interrogation.” muses Johnny. 

“I do have a law degree,” replies Jaehyun, a playful smile teasing his lips, fingers tapping the steering wheel as he eyes the traffic lights. “But do answer my question.”

Johnny presses his lips together. “I’ve only ever had three relationships, kind of? If you can call them that, I mean...” he trails off momentarily. “I had a fling with this girl during the summer between graduation and college, and had some... arrangements... with two close friends.” 

“Arrangements?” Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow, looking at Johnny, to which Johnny just laughs awkwardly.

“Temporary fixes,” he clarifies himself. “Nothing really serious, though. I’m not really a relationship type of person.”

“Why is that?”

“Love... is scary,” Johnny starts. “Like... I want it, but I don’t think I’m ready for it. I feel like once you start loving someone, then that makes your heart vulnerable enough for them to rip it out of it’s cavity and stomp on it... you know? I don’t know if that makes sense but, like, yeah.” 

Jaehyun doesn’t respond and Johnny winces to himself, fiddling with his fingers. He looks out the passenger window, seeing that it’s began to start raining, his eyes focusing on following the rain drops as they make their way down the glass pane. Jaehyun clears his throat.

“You’re absolutely correct,” replies Jaehyun. “Love _is_ terrifying, but it’s worth it... is it not?”

“Of course,” Johnny laughs half-heartedly, eyeing the hotel as it nears them. “Of course it’s worth it, it’s always worth a shot. Just... can’t seem to get mine.” 

Jaehyun pulls over in front of the hotel, shutting off he engine and unbuckling his seatbelt. “And what’s stopping you?”

“Everything.”

Johnny avoids his gaze, stepping out of the car and onto the pavement, shutting the sleek black door behind him. He feels Jaehyun’s presence next to him, following suit, the chirp of the car signifying it’s locked the last thing Johnny hears before stepping into the lobby. The two of them walk towards the elevators. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, nor does Johnny, and it stays silent between them for the entire ride in the elevator. Johnny eyes the red string that ties them together, wanting so bad to confront him about it, the stinging urge to question him lining the walls of his voice box, the acidic thought of pushing Jaehyun against the elevator wall and releasing himself into the orders of the universe unfolding in his mind.

The elevator door opens with a _ding!_ on Johnny’s floor.

“This is my stop,” Johnny says, avoiding Jaehyun’s gaze. “I’ll see you arou-“

“Doyoung?” Jaehyun’s voice cuts Johnny off which prompts him to look up from the ground, seeing the man standing in front of them. His face is red, and his hair is sticking in different directions, wearing a simple white button up shirt and black slacks.

“What are you doing on this floor, honey?” Jaehyun prompts Doyoung when he doesn’t answer. Doyoung stares at the two of them with wide eyes, before a smile breaks onto his face, scratching his jaw and stepping into the elevator.

“I was looking for a vending machine,” replies Doyoung, his tone too casual; a tone far too familiar to Johnny; a tone that takes him back to university. “They don’t have any here... of course they don’t. I was too hungry to think straight. We should order some room service!”

Johnny steps out the elevator and glances at the two of them, studying Doyoung and Jaehyun’s faces momentarily before turning around and hurriedly rushing to his room, feeling the pulse of his heart in his ears. Doyoung was beaming at Jaehyun, a smile laced with love and care, and Jaehyun mirrored the smile towards Doyoung as well, but what was laced in Doyoung’s eyes, upturned and staring right at the love of his life, was guilt.

And what was laced in Jaehyun’s was pain.

-

Johnny stares at the scripture that had poured out from his black pen, his eyes following every single letter. He gladly took Ten’s offer to write the perfect speech for Doyoung. As he reads, Johnny almost lets out a chuckle at the blatant irony of his words, setting the notepad and pen down before standing up from the stiff chair and stretching out his back, yawning before glancing at the clock. Three-thirty p.m.. Exactly one week before the wedding ceremony.

Johnny trudges over to the bed, cuddling into a pillow, bringing his knees to his chest and reaching towards the remote for the television, pausing when he sees his red string glinting in the sunlight splaying through the curtains. He sighs. 

It’s been three days since the encounter with Jaehyun at the coffee shop, and the ordeal that happened in the elevator. He has not seen both Doyoung nor Jaehyun in those three days, but maybe it was because Johnny hasn’t left the comfort of his own hotel room since seeing the familiar glint in Doyoung’s eyes. 

He puts his hand down against the sheets, screwing his eyes shut and letting out a loud exhale, staying still for several minutes, waiting to doze off for the nth time today, but a knock on his door interrupts his wishes and begrudgingly, Johnny stands up from his bed to retrieve it. 

“Hey,” Ten smiles when Johnny opens the door. “Let’s go for a drink.”

Johnny doesn’t drink; he doesn’t like the feeling of being inebriated and not being in control of his body, so he refuses to let any type of liquor into his system. Ten, on the other hand, is on the opposite side of the spectrum, scarfing down three shots in a row not even five minutes after arriving at the hotel’s bar.

“Hey,” Johnny grabs Ten’s shoulders. “Slow down, you’re gonna kill yourself.”

“Psh,” Ten waves him off. “ Don’t worry, I’m not a lightweight.” 

Johnny orders a water and a bacon sandwich, much to the barista’s confusion, but within no time, she slides it towards him. Johnny grabs the sandwich and slowly begins to eat it, making sure that Ten stays put beside him.

“I don’t know what to do, Johnny,” says Ten after a period of silence. “I’m so fucking confused.”

“Hm?” Johnny asks, mouth filled with bacon.

“About Doyoung,” he turns to Johnny. His face had already began to turn rouge; (Not a lightweight my ass. _Johnny retorts in his thoughts._ ) “Johnny, I’m in love with him.”

Johnny nods once. “Yes,” he says. “But in a week, he will be a married man.”

Ten whines at this, hitting the table softly before resting his forehead against the dark mahogany wood. “I can’t let the wedding happen. I can’t.” 

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. “Ten, don’t say that,” he tells him, shoving the shot glasses away from him. “You’re just drunk. You said it yourself: whatever happens, happens.”

“But,” Ten doesn’t lift his head from the table. “It did happen.”

“What?”

“Johnny,” Ten looks up at him slowly, a small smile teasing the sides of his lips. “Doyoung loves me back.”

Johnny stares at him for what seems like hours, trying to make sense of the situation, but coming to no conclusion, but his heart aches, because he knows exactly what Ten is talking about. He’s seen this smile far too many times throughout his days in university, a smile usually engraved on people’s faces as Doyoung follows them closely behind. His eyes search Ten’s face for humour, but there is none; just pure happiness mixed with alcohol. Johnny sets his sandwich down on the plate before turning his full body towards Ten’s.

“Ten, you’re drunk and spouting nonsense,” Johnny says, voice stern. “Doyoung is engaged. He is in love with Jaehyun. I’m sorry, but whatever your red string says may not be the case. I’ve learned time and time again that fate is not always going to be on our sides.”

“But it _is_ on my side!” Ten tells him, sitting up straight. “Fate is on my side, Johnny!”

Johnny feels disoriented. “What do you mean, Ten?” 

Ten beams.

“Doyoung and I made love all those nights ago.”

-

Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was raining and Johnny hadn’t packed an umbrella and is far too indifferent to buy one from a convenience store, or maybe it was due to the fact that he had heard too many things slip past Ten’s drunk lips, but Johnny feels sick. His brain racks against his skull, his eyelids seemed to become heavier and heavier with every passing moment, his muscles ached with every movement he makes, but he cannot rest for the life of him.

His wedding speech was complete, he completed it just a few hours after Ten had told him all the details of him and Doyoung’s meet up the night he bumped into him at the elevators along with Jaehyun. He felt ill, his heart twinged in pain and his stomach felt as if several ulcers had opened up as Ten described everything, every touch, every moment of passion the two of them shared, ill intentions engraved inscribed on Ten’s collarbones, and through glasses of red, Johnny took to his notepad to write the speech Doyoung wishes for.

And now he walks around the city again, becoming lost, the only thing he is familiar with is the night sky, but even that is covered by grey clouds and several raindrops falling down.

He walks as much as he can, not bothering to figure out where he is, not bothering to remember the direction the hotel is in, and he comes across a small river. Johnny pushes his wet hair out of his eyes, looking at the view before him; lamp posts line the sidewalk, flowerbeds separate the benches, and though it was raining very hard, the river still flows in pure serenity. Johnny puts his hands against the railing that holds as a barrier between the land and the river, watching as the water moves down. He sighs to himself; to be that free, moving in any direction he wants, not tied down to one single thing for his entire life, a life led with many purposes, is simply but a daydream for Johnny. A life he can never have, all because of the stark reminder that is tied around his pinky finger. 

He puts his face in his palms and stays like that for several minutes, leaning against the railing.

_Out of all people, why does it have to be Jaehyun?_

The rain suddenly stops but the sound of it doesn’t. Johnny looks up from his hands and sees droplets barreling down around him, but the water does not touch his skin. Then, he feels warmth radiating from beside him, and he turns, his heartbeat begins to quicken.

“You’re going to get sick.” Jaehyun says, holding an umbrella over Johnny’s head. 

“What are you doing here?” asks Johnny, not knowing what to say.

Jaehyun shrugs. “I wanted some fresh air. I could ask the same for you... it looks like you’re going through a midlife crisis.”

Johnny smiles. “You could say that.”

“What’s the matter?”

Silence finds its way into their conversation again, taking the words out of Johnny’s mouth and dissolving them into thin air. Johnny sighs and takes the umbrella from Jaehyun’s hands.

“Here, I’ll hold it, you’re getting rained on,” Johnny’s voice is quiet, holding the umbrella over Jaehyun. “Plus you’re short. You’re just gonna keep hitting my head with it.”

Jaehyun laughs. “That’s the first time anyone’s ever called me short.” 

Johnny chuckles. It felt right to chuckle. Everything felt right when he was with Jaehyun, but at the same time, it all felt wrong. They continue to walk down the pathway, the same direction the river is flowing in.

“You never answered my question,” points out Jaehyun. “Is everything alright?”

Johnny nods simply. “It’ll be okay.” 

Jaehyun frowns. “Evidently, it won’t be...” he says, stopping in his tracks. “Are you sure? Johnny, I’m here to talk, you know.” 

“I know,” Johnny says. “It’s just...” 

His voice trails off and his eyes search Jaehyun’s face. Johnny wants to tell him, he does, his entire being aches for Jaehyun to know the actions Doyoung had made, but at the same time he’s afraid; he’s afraid of seeing Jaehyun break down in pain, or seeing him walk away from him, his last impression on the latter a feeling of pure hatred. 

“It’s just what?” prompts Jaehyun, and Johnny looks down at the ground, watching the raindrops fall and form circles against the puddles on the dark pavement. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“And why?” asks Jaehyun, his voice becoming quiet.

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jaehyun stands there, staring at Johnny, this time he’s the one studying Johnny’s face for signs of amusement, for signs of humour, but it does not lead to a conclusion. His hands turn to fists in his pocket, clenching his jaw as he looks down at the ground. 

“I know.” Jaehyun says simply, and Johnny furrows his eyebrows. 

“Huh?”

“I know about Doyoung,” Jaehyun’s eyes continue to stay on the ground. “I’ve always known. My friend attended the same university as him, and I know that he’s been unfaithful, and I know that he’s been hooking up with Ten.” 

Johnny is stunned.

“Then why are you marrying him?” Johnny questions him.

“Because I love him.” 

Johnny’s heart is torn at his answer, because deep down, he knows that it is not the truth.

“You can’t love someone who just hurts you again and again,” Johnny tells him. “Jaehyun, you deserve better than that. You deserve a happy marriage.”

Jaehyun looks up at him, his eyes, always usually filled with wonder that could cause the stars in the sky to fume with envy, are empty. “I don’t lead a life that should result in a happy marriage, Johnny,” he tells him. “Doyoung was the one who saved my father from passing, he’s the one who paid for my younger sibling’s education. I have no other way to repay him, so I shower him with my love.”

“He helped you with your situation,” Johnny says. “But you don’t owe him love.” 

“It’s all I can offer.”

“And there’s someone out there who can offer it back.”

Jaehyun scoffs. “Johnny,” he says, his tone becoming sharp. “I don’t have the choice to fall in love with whomever I want to.”

“Neither did I.”

The two of them stand in silence, the rain coming to a stop. They stand there for what seems like millennia, eyes boring into each other’s. How badly did Johnny want to bring the man forward, to wrap his arms around his shoulders, to comb his hands through his hair, and to have feel his lips against his own. Jaehyun stands in front of him, looking into his eyes as if he were waiting for something, _anything_ , but Johnny rids of the thought by shaking his head and looking back down at the ground.

_I can’t._

“Let’s head back,” Johnny says. “It’s getting late.”

“Of course.”

The walk back is silent, but it is a comfortable silence. The two saunter the busy streets simply enjoying each others presence, a wordless conversation being shared between them; instead of words being exchanged, they communicate through quick glances and soft smiles. As they near the hotel, Johnny sighs, feeling the emotion of dread washing over him slowly. The pair walk towards the elevators, where they still continued to stand in silence. 

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone within a week?” asks Johnny as they board the elevator. Jaehyun looks at him in the eye and smiles.

“Definitely.”

The bell _dings!_ and the elevator doors close, but the space between Johnny and Jaehyun remains.

-

It is three days before the wedding, and the rest of Doyoung and Jaehyun’s guests have begun to file into the hotel. An entire floor is occupied by Doyoung’s family and friends, while half the floor above is occupied by Jaehyun’s. Johnny had purposefully avoided bumping into Ten and Doyoung, knowing that he’ll act doubtlessly hostile towards them. Instead, he befriended some of Doyoung and Jaehyun’s other friends. 

He met Doyoung and Jaehyun’s groomsmen: Kim Jungwoo, a gentle and tender man, Jaehyun’s childhood friend and neighbour, who Johnny had tripped upon first meeting; Lee Donghyuck, a boy who called himself Haechan, fitting for he was a vociferous and charming conundrum who apparently worked with Jaehyun (and Ten) on stage countless of times in the past; Huang Renjun, a quiet yet lively boy that Johnny had already met before, who Jaehyun had supposedly taken under his wing; Lee Taeyong, who had worked under Doyoung as his secretary ever since he took over the company, a man with a kind nature; Mark Lee, a cousin of Doyoung’s, who Johnny had stuck by ever since he discovered that he was from Vancouver and can also speak English (Johnny was ecstatic), and Wong Yukhei, who desired to be called as Lucas, tall and broad, a rowdy man, whose face and physique was regularly used by Kim Group to market and promote products that were to be released.

That morning, Doyoung had texted Johnny, Taeyong, Mark and Lucas that he had scheduled a fitting at Ermenegildo Zegna for all four of them, and to meet him in the lobby. Johnny sat the farthest away from the rest of the men, on his phone, searching up the boutique that Doyoung had chose, nearly choking on his spit at the mere prices; all the suits seen on the websites are over the price of five-thousand, which, much to Johnny’s dismay, is a number that Johnny has yet to see in his bank account.

Doyoung _did_ say he was paying for the suits, but it hadn’t quite hit Johnny how rich his ex-roommate was. His mind flashed to Doyoung adventures in university, the fact that he now has a kingdom at the tips of his fingers, the number of zeroes attached to his name, and the fact that _Johnny’s_ soulmate has Doyoung’s ring beared on his finger. He lets out a huff before clicking his phone off, dropping it into his lap. Taeyong hears the huff and he turns to Johnny.

“Hey, everything okay?” Taeyong asks, looking at Johnny worriedly. Johnny sends him a flat smile. 

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “I’m just sleepy I guess.”

It’s minutes later when Doyoung walks out from the elevator, his overcoat flowing behind him, a blue scarf wrapped around his neck. Johnny lifts an eyebrow at the peculiar fashion choice, seeing how it’s still warm outside since it’s still August. He endures the feeling of discomfort that begins to form in his stomach, pushing it to the back of his mind as he stands up. 

“Come on,” Doyoung says, barely sparing the four a glance, taking his keys out of his overcoat’s pocket. “We’ll be late for our appointment.” 

He pivots on his heel, pressing the descend button next to the elevator doors, the four men walking over to Johnny. Mark looks him up and down in disbelief; it was definitely a contrast. Johnny presses his lips together to push back laughter, comparing Doyoung’s thick monotonous winter gear and Mark’s summer-y outfit that consists of a striped yellow short-sleeved shirt and blaringly red shorts. 

“Damn Doyoung,” says Mark. “You’ll die from overheating.”

“I get cold easily.” Doyoung says simply, before the elevator doors open with a ding and stepping inside. The four men all look at each other with forced seriousness before following behind Doyoung and boarding the elevator, pure silence unfolding between all of them as they descend to the parking garage and board Doyoung’s car.

“I’ll cover the costs,” Doyoung says as he drives, hands squeezed around the steering wheel. Johnny sits in the front passenger seat next to him, avoiding Doyoung’s gaze. “I just want all of you to stand there and look pretty.”

They arrive to the boutique quickly, and they are welcomed with comfort, employees seemed to be rushing to aid Doyoung with his overcoat and scarf, but Doyoung paid them no mind. Johnny sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and smiling gratefully at the staff. It must be nice being rich and getting everything you ever wanted.

“The wedding is the day after tomorrow,” Doyoung says, almost commands, to no one in particular, as he glances at his watch. “When can I get the suits?” 

The shop falls silent as the staff all look at each other, in panic. Barely two days to finish four suits, Johnny gulps as he fears for the staff. Doyoung looks away from his watch and looks at all the attendants, studying their faces. Johnny expected Doyoung to open his mouth and to order for an answer, but he doesn’t, instead, he just stands there with his eyes forceful and his jaw clenched.

“U-Uh,” pipes up one attendant, her voice fluttery and light. Johnny reads her nametag, which says _Lisa_. “I’m not sure if we can get them to you that quickly, s-”

“You can.” Doyoung interrupts her, voice smooth and and colourless, but it still seems to frighten Lisa, causing her to jump. “And you will.” 

Lisa nods once, looking around at the rest of the attendants who press their lips together, all of them are avoiding Doyoung’s gaze. Doyoung pivots on his heel, looking at his best man and his groomsmen, all of whom mirror the same expression as the attendants. 

“This is my best man,” Doyoung gestures to Johnny, then he gestures to Mark, Taeyong and Lucas. “These are my groomsmen. Do what you will. I need to get my suit as well.”

“I’ll be at your service, sir,” says one employee, stepping towards Johnny, the taller one of the attendants. She has long black hair, and she seems to hold a composed nature, but Johnny could tell it was a facade from the fear in her eyes. Her name tag says _Joy_. Johnny flashes her a sympathetic smile, as if it was a way to tell her _don’t be scared of me._ , which works, as her stiff shoulders seem to relax, slumping down slightly. “Come right this way.”

“Sorry about him,” Johnny says in a hushed voice when he knows they’re both out of earshot. “He’s… quite difficult.” 

“Don’t worry, sir,” Joy gives him an archaic smile, nodding once before leading him into a room adorned with curtains and a tall mirror. “Customers like him are more common than you think.”

“You don’t have to call me sir, you know,” chuckles Johnny as he steps onto the platform while Joy takes out a box filled with sewing appliances. “I don’t think I’m qualified for that title, just call me Johnny.” 

“Okay, Johnny.” Joy nods, before holding up a black blazer behind Johnny, urging him to put it on. It is then when he notices the bags under her eyes, which her concealer did an ill job of covering, and he feels even more apologetic. She takes out measuring tape and presses the side against the back of Johnny’s shoulders, sticking red pins where his shoulders end and do not touch the fabric. It is then when Johnny notices her hands, seeing a wedding band around her ring finger, and beside that, the string around her pinky.

Which is a potent black.

Johnny’s throat closes up as the monotone colour seems to mock him in the mirror, his eyes following the black strand as it trails behind Joy’s pinky finger. He looks between her wedding band and her string, and then the bags under her eyes, and notices how transparent her skin seems. His hands begin to sweat, and his eyes are downcast at the floor, unable to look at her black string. He’s still unable to figure out what it meant, or why it exists in the first place.

“Johnny?” Joy’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “Johnny… hello? Are you there?”

“Huh?” Johnny snaps back to reality, looking up to see Joy giggling at him. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

“It’s alright, I just asked you to lift your arms,” Joy reassures him, Johnny following suit. “You seem to have a lot on your mind. Pardon if I sound unprofessional but if we’re going to be stuck in this room for the next several minutes, just know I’m always up for a chat.” 

Johnny bites at his lip as Joy gently prods him on, lifting her eyebrows as if she was saying _go on._ He sighs, and looks down at the ground.

“I think,” Johnny starts, racking his brain for cover-ups to the truths of his story. “I think my friend’s wedding is causing a rift in the universe. It’s also making me scared for my own sake.”

Joy laughs at Johnny’s peculiar situation. “Why do you say that?”

“Um,” Johnny gulps. “Well, you see, there’s someone I like. And I think they like me back too? But I can’t really do anything because I, um, know I’m never going to see them again? Which was a given anyways… but I don’t know if I should do anything because… commitment scares me at the moment? Because I don’t wanna feel vulnerable and stuff… and like… I’m just scared because, like, um, what if the person I like right now actually _is_ the one for me and I continue to push them away… what if I act when it’s too late? Oh my god, sorry, that was, um, a lot to unload.”

Joy listens to his words intently before letting out a exhale, bringing the measuring tape and clasping her hands together in front of her chest. She looks at Johnny sympathetically, her eyebrows, frowning for a bit before pressing her lips together. 

“Oh Johnny,” Joy says. “If you like them — if you love them — you cannot just keep pushing them away.” 

Johnny frowns. “The thing is… I don’t have any other choice.” 

“What do you mean?”

“They… might like me, but they are in love with someone else.” Johnny’s voice falters momentarily before he clears his throat, gulping.

“Look,” Joy puts a hand on his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror. Her wedding band glints in the light, and her black string falls over Johnny’s shoulder. “Even if he is in love with someone else, all that matters right now is for you to let them know about your feelings. Not physically, but through words. Genuine words.”

“I’m sure they know with the way I act already.” Johnny starts. 

“But their true feelings will show the moment you tell them straightforward,” Joy says, unravelling the measuring tape again as Johnny’s eyes divert to the carpeted floors. “Think of it as the start of something new, or perhaps closure.”

Johnny exhales, balling his hands into fists by his side. Joy was right, the truth in her words ring free, and Johnny could hear her clearly.

“You know,” Joy starts after a momentary pause, her eyes trailing to her wedding band. “The last words I ever said to my wife were filled with anger. The last actions I showed towards her were violent actions, I kept punching the walls and kicking the furniture. I regret the way I acted, up until today. And everyday, I wish that that wasn’t the case, that instead of destroying our home, that I could hug and kiss her one last time. I wish I had known that was her last day on earth, because I would have told her I loved her, and that I always will.” 

Johnny eyes her black strand again. Her wife — her soulmate — was dead. Is that why her string was black?

“Johnny,” Joy says softly. “You have to do it soon. Before it’s too late.”

-

The music is loud, the bass roaring to the point where Johnny can feel his veins vibrating along with the beat, and much to his dismay, the ass currently in his face shakes with the beat as well. It is the night before the wedding, which Doyoung decided it was the best time for a party. 

Johnny sighs as he looks around the room, the feeble party unraveling disappointingly. He assumes that Doyoung bought the whole club out, because only the five of them, plus three female and 2 male strippers, are the only ones in the building. Taeyong is on his phone, ignoring the woman in front of him, dancing around a stripper pole. Mark is in the corner, seemingly hiding from everyone else; Johnny’s surprised he’s still even awake, the moment he had stepped into the club it looked like he was about to pass out. Lucas has two strippers next to him, possibly whispering sweet nothings. Doyoung is nowhere to be seen. Johnny knows why. 

He sits still on the couch, listening to the music instead of enjoying the dull environment, swirling the water he had been drinking around the glass. He thinks back on Joy’s words, chewing on his lip as he watches the mini whirlpool form in his glass.

_You have to do it soon. Before it’s too late._

Johnny sets the glass down on the table in front of him before standing up, shoving his phone in his pocket. 

“I’m leaving,” says Johnny. “Tell Doyoung that I wasn’t up for it. Sorry.”

Taeyong looks up from his phone and nods. “Will do.”

Johnny grabs his sweater and heads out the door. It’s the first day of September, fitting because it’s begun to cool down a lot, especially during nighttime. The slight chill greets Johnny’s cheeks and neck as he cranes his head back to look at the night sky, gray clouds covering the clouds, streaks of moonlight peeking through. Great, he did not bring an umbrella, again, but whatever - he’s gotten a bit more used to the area so he won’t get lost as easily from before. 

He walks fast so he can get home sooner than the rain can fall, but his stride is ultimately broken the moment he feels a slight drop hit his forehead. He groans, covering his hair with his hood, knowing it still won’t protect him from the rain, but Johnny will take anything he can get. He walks faster, seeing the café him and Jaehyun had their conversation in the distance. As he passes by, he looks at it once more. The door is closed, the lights are off, but he can still feel the warmth radiating from the shop, enclosing him in comfort even through the freezing rain. And then he hears Joy’s voice echoing in his head again.

_You have to do it soon. Before it’s too late._

“Johnny,” he freezes when he hears the voice. “What are you doing here?” 

Johnny doesn’t turn to look at him, he doesn’t have the strength to. His heart beats against his ribcage, his eyes widening as his voice becomes stuck in his throat. It’s been nearly a week since he talked to him, since he’s seen him. He’s too afraid. 

“Johnny?” Jaehyun’s voice comes closer, and Johnny can feel his hand rest on his shoulder. “Is everything okay? You’re gonna get sick.” 

Johnny finally looks at him, pivoting on his heel, his eyes taking in the sight of the man before him. He is drenched in rain, much like Johnny was, his ash blonde hair is wet and pulled back, a few strands escaping and teasing the tips of his eyelashes. His face is red, lips are red, his nose is red, his eyes are red. He cannot differentiate his tears from the rain, and Johnny just stares at him.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny breathes out, not knowing what else to say, before walking towards him and engulfing him in a hug, pulling the shorter man’s head and closer to nuzzle it against his shoulder. “Jaehyun.” 

“Johnny, I can’t marry him,” he sobs quietly into the fabric of Johnny’s sweater. “I can’t. I can’t marry him. It hurts too much, my heart hurts so bad, Johnny.” 

Johnny doesn’t open his mouth to speak, softly combing his hands through Jaehyun’s hair as he weeps. He closes his eyes, holding Jaehyun close to him. Usually, it would be Jaehyun to provide the warmth, but all Johnny feels in his arm is desolation. 

“Johnny, I don’t know what to do,” Jaehyun weeps harder, his chest heaving as he wraps his arms around Johnny’s neck tighter. “I can’t marry him. I can’t.”

“I know.” is all Johnny is able to get out. He wishes he could say more. He thinks now is not the time.

Instead, he just stands there, caressing Jaehyun’s hair as he weeps into his shoulder, cherishing every moment held close but and enduring his breaking heart at the same time. 

-

It is the day of the wedding. The venue is beginning to fill up with the guests, with Jaehyun and Doyoung’s family and friends. 

After Johnny had brought Jaehyun back to the hotel the night prior, they did not dare to speak any words as they rode the elevator. The moment Johnny stepped out onto his floor, he did not dare to look back at Jaehyun, and Jaehyun did not dare to look for his eyes. The silence between them was desperate, as if it were clinging onto the weakest of straws, holding on for dear life. Johnny locked himself in his room that night, his eyes beginning to spill tears onto his cheeks, burying his face into the pillow to make it stop. He did not know that Jaehyun was also doing the same, alone in his penthouse, several floors above, waiting for Doyoung to come home. 

When Johnny woke up, his eyes were still red and puffy, and when he was questioned, he used the bachelor party as an excuse. He has not seen Jaehyun at all since stepping into the venue, nor has he seen Doyoung - but that was a given. He roams the halls, his heart tormenting his ribcage, his hands trembling. He feels as if he is walking on air, as if he is in a dream, the pain he feels in his heart almost fictional to him. But when the elevator comes, and the elevator door opens, he realizes that everything is very real.

“Jaehyun.” Johnny is the first to call his name this time. Jaehyun stands in the elevator, alone, wearing his suit. His hair is slicked back, much like last night, but this time with gel, no strands hang in front of his forehead. His eyes are still puffy, and perhaps it was because Johnny knew exactly why, but he could tell he tried all he can to cover up the rouge with concealer. 

“Johnny.” Jaehyun nods at him, a certain flicker in his eye ignites for a split second before they turn soulless, diverting his gaze to the floor. Johnny boards the elevator, standing next to Jaehyun, the space between them oh-so obvious. 

“Good luck, today.” Johnny tells him, trying all he can to not let his voice falter.

“Thank you,” Jaehyun says, his voice thick. “You as well.”

“Thank you.” 

Johnny wishes he can say something else, but he doesn’t. Johnny wishes he had the guts to push Jaehyun against the wall and have their lips finally meet, a feeling he has been desperately wanting ever since he met him, but he doesn’t. He thinks that now is not the right time. 

The elevator bell _dings!_ , the doors close, and the space between the two of them remains again.

-

Johnny watches as the pair officiates their marriage, their hands linking together as they lean in for a kiss. The entire venue erupts into cheers, camera flashes nearly blinding Johnny’s if it weren’t for the fact that he could hear his heart breaking over top of all the chaos. His hands rest by his sides as he refrains from letting his tears spill out. He can see the hickies on Doyoung’s neck, covered poorly by concealer and his puffed up blazer collar. He doesn’t dare look at Jaehyun, he didn’t look at him once the entire ceremony, because he knows if he did, his cheeks will be stained with tears.

Everything moved so fast, it was all a blur to Johnny after that, because the next moment he comes to, he is clutching a nearly-finished wine bottle in his left hand, and an empty wine glass in the other, and everyone is staring at him. _Shit._ Johnny thinks. _Where did this wine come from. How much did I drink?_ His name echoes in the background, and he looks around confusedly.

“Dude,” Mark nudges him in the arm. “It’s time for your speech.”

“Oh!” Johnny exclaims, ignoring the fact that he’s completely out of it, that his face is a blaring red, standing up and grabbing the folded piece of paper and heading towards the stage, trying everything he can not to trip over and ruins the decorations. He could feel Doyoung’s eyes burn into the back of his head as he walks up the stares, and he can feel someone else’s eyes as well, albeit much gentler. The alcohol pushes the thought out of Johnny’s brain.

“He-,” Johnny placed his mouth too close to the microphone, the feedback ringing as guests cringe and cover their ears. The moment it finishes, Johnny grabs the microphone again, apologetic, but a goofy grin is on his face. This is exactly why Johnny doesn’t drink.

“Sorry about that,” he laughs into the microphone. The venue laughs along with him. _Good,_ he thinks. _At least it isn’t a tough crowd._ “Hello, everyone, I’m Johnny Seo.”

Johnny unravels the piece of paper, skimming over the words he’d written onto the sheet that were out of pure anger. “First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for coming in from near and far, tonight, such as myself, because, you know, I’m from Chicago. But yeah, let’s talk about Doyoung, it’s what he told me to do, right?” 

The crowd laughs again, and Johnny glances over at Doyoung, who is looking at him anxiously. “You know, Doyoung is one of the most unpredictable men I’ve ever met, in all my twenty-eight years of living, which is a good thing! You need unpredictability to guide a company! Here’s to Kim Group!” Johnny yells loudly, raising his empty wine glass in the air. The crowd follows, ‘Here’s to Kim Group’ echoing throughout the venue.

“Anyways, I was so shocked to see Doyoung so… in love and happy. Whenever I saw him in university, he’d always have obvious stress on his face”—the crowd laughs again—”but the moment I saw his husband-to-be, I understood why.” 

Johnny clears his throat, and looks back at his piece of paper, avoiding the gaze of warm eyes on him. 

“I remember one time,” Johnny says, his tone becoming quiet as he lies straight through his teeth. “When I was having a rough time in my own studies. Doyoung was always the one who came to my aid. He’s such a helpful friend, and I could never be more grateful. I’m so grateful.”

It was a lie, Johnny had passed through his classes with flying colours, whereas Doyoung was the one who constantly stressed over his classes due to the fact that he never attended any. Johnny was the one who helped Doyoung, it always was, and it was never the other way around.

“He’s still the same now,” Johnny says, looking at Doyoung, who had replaced his expression of anxiousness into content. He glances at Jaehyun who sits next to Doyoung, his eyes boring into Johnny, and Johnny nearly lets out a gasp before looking back at his paper, tears teasing his waterlines. He repeats his line weakly. “He’s still the same now.” 

“I can tell that Doyoung and Jaehyun are very much in love and will spend many happy years together,” Johnny continues. “I would like to tell them both how honoured I am that they asked me to take part in this incredible and special day for them both.” 

Johnny then musters up the courage to look at Jaehyun in the crowd, avoiding everybody else’s gaze. 

“I wish them both blissful years of a beautiful, happy marriage.” 

But as Johnny finishes his speech, he realizes that Jaehyun is not looking back at him. As the crowd applauds Johnny’s speech, standing up to show appreciation, Jaehyun remains seated, looking at his hands, at the finger next to his wedding band, straight at the black thread tied around his pinky, the same black thread that Johnny shares.

Johnny’s heart drops.

Jaehyun can see the strings.

Jaehyun had seen the strings the entire time.

_Fin._


	2. Alternate Ending

“I’m such a big fan,” the teen girl exclaims as she pushes her copy of the book towards Johnny. “This book pulled at my heartstrings, everything about it was just so… heartbreaking. To live through that… how painful it must be.” 

Johnny smiles gently as he signs his autograph on the girl’s hardcover copy. “It must have been truly agonizing for him, huh?” he muses, putting the cap back onto his pen. 

It has been ten years since the wedding of Doyoung and Jaehyun, and the moment Johnny Seo touched back down in Chicago, he had decided to pour all of his thoughts and feelings into a manuscript through third person, through the concept of letters, titling it as a collection of letters to the boy he loves. His publisher fell in love with the concept the first look through, and decided to help Johnny achieve commercial success. Within weeks, _To The Boy I Love_ sold millions of copies, quickly becoming sold out in bookstores and in shops. It was a global success, and Johnny rose to fame through his writings. 

“Please tell me that there’s going to be a sequel,” the girl asks him. “I can’t continue to live knowing the two of them aren’t together even though they’re meant to be.”

“Like Josiah said in the book to Theo: fate is not always going to be on our sides.” he sees the look of disappointed flash on the girls face and smiles again. “But you know what, I’ll see to it.” 

Johnny has gotten used to this life. Rather than becoming engrossed in his love life and future, he decides to dedicate his time into writing books, putting together as many novels as he can to let his emotions out. Johnny lives on his own now, in a small modest house at the edge of the city, and he’s been living in it ever since Yuta and Sicheng got married, so he has the time and the space to let his emotions out. The thing is, it’s been ten years; Johnny is thirty-eight now, his hair is beginning to gray, and it was just the other day he noticed the beginnings of crow’s feet around his eyes - and Johnny’s emotions just can’t seem to stop flowing out. 

Especially now that he’s at a book signing in Seoul, South Korea; which is held in the same hotel the everything happened.

The last few people get their books signed, and take their photos with Johnny, before the end of the day hits. Johnny gets up from his chair, stretching his back and letting out a groan; he had been sitting there for nearly three hours, and his back was beginning to ache. He forks his hand through his hair, catching glimpse of the black strand that dangles from his pinky. He had grown accustomed to it, but the pain that lies in his heart is awakened every time he does notice it. 

“I’m gonna go walk around.” says Johnny to the staff and his manager, to which they nod. Johnny grabs his book bag and saunters out of the event room and into the lobby, the same smell of cinnamon he had smelt years ago the day he met Jaehyun hitting his nose, and it felt as if he travelled back in time. He strolls out the lobby and out the front doors, feeling the warm August air engulf him. 

Throughout the ten years, he studied hangul, and can read it well now, so he doesn’t have to worry about getting lost again - and even if he did, he knew the area like the back of his hand from memory. He walks, and walks, noticing the signs that he didn’t notice before, seeing sights that he was too oblivious to look at; the cat cafe that he had mistaken for a pet shop ten years ago, a second-hand store which he thought was an abandoned lot, a hair salon which he had confused with a simple house. 

And then he sees it. 

_Lover’s Peak_ is the name of the coffee shop. Johnny smiles. 

_Fitting._

He passes by the coffee shop, noting the young boy, Renjun, he had seen years before still working behind the counter, but much older now, a wedding band around his ring finger. Through the window, Johnny could see that the furniture and interior upgraded, but the ambience was still the same; soft, modest, minimalist. His heart thumped against his rib cage and Johnny decided it was time to go back.

Upon arriving back to the hotel, Johnny grabs his phone from his pocket as he walks towards the elevators. Pressing the button, he doesn’t pay attention to his surroundings as he flips through his emails. The elevator _dings!_ and the doors open, and just as Johnny boards, he hears a tone his ears had been missing.

“Johnny.” 

Graying roots, his black hair sways in front of his brown eyes, teasing the tips of his long dark eyelashes. A tender, familiar smile is etched on his face, the faintest of a dimple showing it’s indentation on his cheek. He is still shorter than Johnny, but he still stands tall, his back straight, refusing to cower underneath Johnny’s height. He is dressed in Maison Margiela, the pure white of his wool sweater contrasting against the darkness of his slacks. 

And even though the man’s string suddenly turned into a bright red from the potent black it was prior, Johnny’s eyes were fixated on the man’s face.

Because he already knew. 

Because this man’s red string leads to Johnny’s.

“Jaehyun.”

And as the elevator doors close, so does the space between Johnny and Jaehyun.

_Fin_


End file.
